The More the Merrier
by Ripjohnscane
Summary: After 3 years John has finally gotten his life together. He is happily married and has a baby on the way, until a surprise takes him spiraling back down.
1. Chapter 1

The More the Merrier

It had been three years since the Fall of Sherlock and his legacy. Within in that first lonely year, John struggled. He began to build a wall around himself to protect him from ever getting close to anyone ever again. He never went out of the house anymore, turning to a bottle of whiskey instead of his friends for help; he always kept the bottle close at hand for those silence nights where his thoughts to bring him back to reality. Nearly going broke, he went back to the hospital to work as a doctor. Molly, who had been working in the hospital morgue, notice John growing weaker as his first week went on. One night, after working late at the hospital, John had crossed her mind many times, she worried. She decided it was time to see John after what had happened to both of them.

Molly knocked only once before the door opened by itself. Surprised she began calling for her friend. Finding no answer in the darkness she made her way to the living room to wait for him. There she found a trail of whiskey and pills leading to John's motionless body. Without hesitation, she began thrusting her fingers down his throat. "C'mon John, not like this." With every motion of her hand, Molly sobbed, hoping her friend would come back . " John, please," she begged " please come back!" After a few minutes, John began to vomit. Relieved, she hugged her friend and cried into his trembling body.

"You… you saved me," John cried, "you saved me." Molly wept into John's chest holding his weak body in her arms.

"Don't you dare ever do that to me again!" She cried.

Since that awful night, John and Molly became close friends. They started chatting on their breaks together, eating lunch together and as the months went on they began to date each other. John knew that Molly was the only person who could possibly understand what he had gone through. They were made to be together. A year from the night that John tried to kill himself, they spent the night at his apartment watching a movie. Molly went to go and pour the tea but when she was surprised to find John not sitting on the couch. Instead, he was kneeling on the very spot where she had found his cold body a year ago.

"Molly," he said, but he didn't need to Molly knew what was coming, "a year from this very night, you saved my life. Not only that but you saved me from years of loneliness and hating myself. I want every night to feel like that, you saving me. So, will you… will you marry me?"

Surprised, Molly ran crying tears of joy into her fiancés arms. "Oh God yes John! Yes!" she cried!

It was three years since Sherlock's fall, and all was normal. Molly was eight months pregnant now, staying at home, painting the baby's room awaiting their arrival. John wanted the baby's gender to be a surprise, so Molly waited patiently for their son or daughter to enter this world. Daydreaming as she painted, Molly didn't see John wrap his arms around her from behind, lifting her from off the ladder and into his arms. He planted a light kiss on her cheek.

"Are you sure this colour is good for a girl too?" John questioned Molly as he pecked at her neck. She pushed him away, but in return gave him a kiss on the cheek. The color was a pale, dark blue that made Molly's eye brighter with every stroke.

"Yes of course girls love blue!" She laughed, "Beside, I got the inspiration when I was moving the boxes." After many months of persuasion, John had agreed to turn Sherlock's room into the baby's room. It made him sad to let a part of his dear friend go, but it had to have been done. Molly wanted John to remember Sherlock in a healthy way, of course she missed him too but not to the point that John was at. When Molly first moved in with John, she noticed how everything remained the same. Sherlock's clothes, newspapers, files and notes stayed where they were and were not to be touch. Even his jacket and scarf were hung up in the closet where they had always been. She began to help John move on and remember Sherlock for the memories he left and not his possessions. John never really talked about his deceased friend anymore; he hasn't spoken of him for almost as long as the news of the baby.

John began to move around the boxes to find what made Molly pick this familiar colour. Shifting around in a dark paper bag, his fingers met with the cold fabric. His eyes widen as he pulled the blue cloth into the light.

John wanted to die, more than that night that Molly found him. He wanted to forget what he had done to him. John wanted to die.


	2. Chapter 2

The More the Merrier Part 2

John could feel the anger growing inside him like a demon. The scarf had fueled the anger sending it through his fingertips and down his spine.

"What the hell is this?" He words were slow and steady. Molly was confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what the hell is this doing in my house!" John's voice shook the apartment. He was red in the face and steaming.

"John, I didn't know that-"

"That WHAT? That this wouldn't affect me?! I hate that man Molly, I hate him for what he did to me, what he made me become!"

"I don't understand John-"

"He turned me into what you found me that night, he did that to me! And I hate him for what _he _could have caused what I could have missed out on if I went through with killing myself! I would have missed you and the baby and getting my life back together, but _this…_ this scarf brings it all right back. I thought we got rid of all his things? I want him out of my life, Molly! I don't want to have to think of the awful man anymore!"

Molly had never seen her husband like this before: "John, it's just a scarf, why does it matter? He's gone now and we have moved on. The past is the past, you didn't die and we got married." She went to comfort her husband, but he threw her out of the way as he stormed out of the room.

"John what the hell is your problem?"

"_My problem?_ Molly I'm trying to move on, I want Sherlock out of my life! I want to forget about him! At least I'm trying, your practically still in love with the man!"

"Fine then," tears began to roll down Molly's face, John had never since Molly cry since their engagement. "I guess he can take care of our child without you, he's dead and he still is more mature than you." She ran out the door, leaving broken heated John and the echo of her sob in the stairwell. John wanted to run after her but he didn't know what to tell her, what would make her feel better after the harsh words that he spat out at her. John grabbed his coat without hesitation and ran out the door; he didn't know what he would say but he had to stop the girl he loved.


	3. Chapter 3

The More the Merrier Part 3

John raced down the stairs after her. He was already missing her; she was his life, his source of fuel in this cruel world. He needed her. With all the harsh words he said back at the flat, who could blame her for storming out. The point was John wanted to take everything back he had ever done to hurt her. Those days where he didn't come out of his room, the many quiet evenings she spent against his bedroom door, telling him how her day went to keep him back in reality and the weeks where John began to cut himself; Molly used to hold his hand while bandaging them up, and seal it together with a light kiss. He was sorry for everything he had done to her, he wanted to make it up to her in a heartbeat but Molly would never be that easily persuaded after all he did to her. John wanted to die now; he couldn't risk losing another friend.

Making his way down the stairs, John remembered the day he married his soul mate. It was a warm spring afternoon, the church was small but "charming" as John's sister put it. Henry approved of Molly, but he always saw the sorrow in her eyes that day; she didn't want him to grow up without her. _"Don't worry John,"_ Lestrade, John's best man encouraged him; _"you won't embarrass yourself! Everyone will be looking at-"John_ never heard the rest of his wise words, his mind was focused on one thing: Molly. Her hair was twisted off to the side, held together with pastel pink flowers that matched her lips. Her lips. The soft pink glow highlighted her smile like a picture to a frame. John's eyes moved down towards her soft ivy dress, the way it swirled around her feet made it seem like she was walking on air. The tight waist tempted John to run up to his bride and sweep her off her feet. She paced down the aisle with precise footing to every note of the harp; she was so calm, so collective, and so wonderful. John didn't feel Lestrade's hand pulling his jaw back up, he was too focused on what would come next. As Molly made her way up the steps to John's platform he choked out "I do". Apparently it made the guest laugh due to the smile that had enlarged on Molly's porcelain face, but John was serious. He wanted this woman's love more than anything in the world.

John was quickly brought back to reality when he fell head over heels on the last step, hitting the ground with full force. He was too deep in his memory to see the broken board beneath his feet. Molly was just out on the street, waiting for the light to change, he could she her body longing for attention. "Molly…." John said, clearly not loud enough, she didn't even flinch. By now she was taking her first steps onto the pavement, "Molly!" he cried again, no answer. She was across the street by the time John tried to stand up. His knee cracked at the first attempt to put pressure on it and let out a long and loud howl that could be heard from miles around. She turn this time with a fearful look on her face caused by what she had heard coming from her beloved husband's lips.

"JOHN!" She whaled across the street, "JOHN!" She cried again, almost to the center of the road before his world turned upside down.

Molly was hit with such force that her body was thrown into the air. She hit the ground with a loud cry, landing on her right side. She starred into John's soul; her eyes began to fade as she mouthed his name. Blood ran down her face, covering those beautiful eyes which used to hold such colour. John's precious doll had been broken; her porcelain face was covered in a deep red.


	4. Chapter 4

The More the Merrier

John never felt his broken leg when he began to stand up. He struggled at first but that didn't stop him running full force towards her body. By now a crowd had formed around her body; this was too familiar to John.

"Move out of the way she's my wife!"

He pushed his weak, fragile and broken body through the thick wave of people. Some were on phones; others holding each other for support, John didn't need support, he needed Molly. Breaking through, John stopped and dropped to his knees. Molly smiled at him.

"Hello John," she was as calm as their wedding night. Her eyes didn't carry the same colour as they did that wonderful evening, they were dull and tired. "It's ok, John, it's going to be ok." He didn't understand, the confusion must have shown on his face because Molly tried to explain. She reached for his hand pulling it towards her stomach. Her grip was weak and cold, but John's hands followed her light embraced of her fingers. Molly placed his fingers on top of her stomach.

"They kicked," a tear traveled down towards the ground, "The baby is alive, John, it's going to be ok."

"No…no," John gasped, "Molly I can't do this without you; I n-need you," he clutched her hand again, "_We_ need you!"

"It's ok, don't worry, John, you have Sherlock to help you." John's mind didn't understand what had just happened; he was too focused on his wife's health. "He's alive, John, Sherlock _is alive_!" Her voice was calm and soothing; John wanted to fall asleep in her arms like the thousands of nights before this awful morning.

Sirens could be heard from a couple blocks away, people began to pull John away from his wife. He fought against them, but they were too strong against his broken body.

"Molly… don't leave me please! Stays awake don't close your eyes! Don't Molly, do me this one more favour, and don't close your eyes please!" Molly didn't hear his ramblings; her eyes grew tired and weary. The crowd closed the gap between his Love. John's once steady feet gave into the men holding him back. The ambulance began to pull her delicate body from the sidewalk, but John could not watch; his heart hurt.


	5. Chapter 5

The More the Merrier

Part 5

Warning: some use of using "the Lords name in vain" I just felt like it's the only way to capture the moment.

John couldn't breathe. He couldn't stand; he couldn't hear a word people said to him, but most of all, John couldn't believe what had just happened. The doctors patched John's knee up; he wasn't listening if it was broke or not. As soon as they left, John marched away. It was almost like an instinct; through the hard times of war, John was taught to keep his head up and march on. He would not cry, not now, not until he knew the truth. He found the Emergency Room doors and could see the trail of blood; he knew it was Molly's. He sighed and kept marching on.

Mrs. Hudson was the only person to stand in his way from leaving this horrible place. She had tear rolling down her cheeks, clutching at John's arm for comfort and support. John never heard a word she was choking out, everything was mute. He tried to walk on, but Mrs. Hudson longed for comfort. He pushed her away and marched on.

John walked for as far as he could with his bad leg. He felt like he had been walking for hours, but when he collapsed the nurses held his head up to show him the doors of the hospital. It seemed hours had pasted as the dragged him back to his hospital bed; John's body didn't fight but his mouth let a few punches out. He felt bad for the nurses having to deal with him; it wasn't their fault, it wasn't anyone's. John wanted someone to blame, someone to hold the weight of John's pain and hatred. He never noticed the nurses strapping him into the bed, it didn't hurt. The one thing that hurt the most was the mirror. There was a mirror hanging from the wall directly in front of John. It stung to see himself; he didn't recognize the broken man who was staring back.

Hours had pasted based on the clock to the right of his bed. People came in and out, crying and trying to break through John's shock. It didn't work, it never worked. The only time he would react was when people touched him. He grew violent, shaking the bed and shouting; John didn't want anyone to get close to him again. The nurses would pin him down and drug him. This happened about 3 times before John would stay calm. He hated the drugs they gave him because they would send him into a deep sleep, and sleep meant seeing Molly's face and the accident. John would wake up screaming and crying out her name into the room.

No one came to visit him for another 2 hours. He waited patiently, learning his lesson from those God-awful pills that brought on sleep. The room was dark, seemed to be around midnight by John's guess, the clock was not visible in the pitch-black room. He waited, without sleep, for any news or anything to bring him back into the world his once knew; a world with Molly. A nurse arrived with the gift of light. She flipped the switch and John's vision grew blurry and his hid his face for protection. Light meant dealing with the pain of looking into that mirror. A tap on the shoulder brought back his vision and his hearing.

"John, you have a visitor." Her voice was soft and cheery, but could hear her choking back the tears.

With time, his eyes could see the small visitor that the nurse had brought. The visitor was a small baby, wrapped tightly in a blanket to protect him from the new world. John felt like his child was the only person who could understand what was going on, being in a new world, a new world without Molly.

John grew happy for the first time since the accident. The child were small and helpless just like him. John felt a warm smile growing on his face and a flood of colours back to his face. The child was sleeping and John longed to hold his…his what.

"What's the gender?" The words broke through his smile from ear to ear.

"It's a boy!"

She handed the baby boy to John holding his arms wide open. His boy brought warmth and love into John's heart and body. He had, for a brief moment, forgotten about the sadness in his heart. The boy looked like John; his lips, cheeks and the lightly coloured hair that grew in thin patches on his head.

"How's my wife?" he stroked the child's head with his pointer finger, he was so small. His eyes were locked on his new son.

"Sh-she's still in surgery." That was all she said; John could see her push a tear away from her cheek in a quick motion from the corner of his eye, trying to hide it from him.

"Hamish."

"I'm sorry?"

"Hamish, that will be his name. Hamish Watson. Of course, Molly will have to agree…but I'm sure-"

Watson's heart stopped. In a mere second, he was taken away from the pain this world had brought by this wonderful child, but in a moment it was swept away. His arms grew stiff as Hamish's eyes opened. John grew disgusted by this child. He had eyes that were

"Take him…please take him away…" The nurse paused, "NOW!" He nearly threw the child into her arms. Hamish Watson began to cry, but John didn't care. "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TAKE HIM AWAY!"

The nurse cradled the small child as she ran out the door. John wanted to cover his ears from the cries, but with his arms strapped to his side, he waited in pain as the cries were muffled by the sounds of the hospital.

The news came shortly after the arrival of his son. But it did not bring the same happiness as Hamish brought in the minutes he had spent with his new father.

"-I'm sorry." That was all John heard. He returned to his mute world, he never heard what the doctor had told him or the sound of the metal clasps being unlocked from him. He just began to march again; this time he made it home. He sank into the bed that they once shared in the year of being married. He never heard the door open or watched the dark figure come into his bedroom. He never felt the covers being draped over his cold body as the figure laid him into bed. He never saw any of this; John just felt the beating of his cold heart to remind him that he is still alive, but Molly is not.


End file.
